


interstices

by rhodophytae



Category: Persona 5
Genre: AkeShu is semi-background, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodophytae/pseuds/rhodophytae
Summary: They're both drawn back to Odaiba every winter, year after year. At some point, Goro started to take solace in having company.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	interstices

"I thought I might find you here."

Goro doesn't turn when he hears the bright, friendly voice behind him, doesn't startle, doesn't acknowledge the greeting in any way. He simply watches his breath mist away in the unforgiving chill of a January morning. "I suppose Ren asked you to keep an eye out for me," he says after a moment.

He can hear the sharp click of Sumire's shoes on the pavement as she comes to stand beside him. "Not at all," she replies, looking up at the stadium towering over both of them. It's long since finished, but he knows neither of them will ever enter this building again. "I just thought you might be here. It's the 9th, after all."

"Ah," Goro says. "I'd forgotten, actually." He always loses track of time when one year ticks over to the next, and yet somehow a part of him always remembers these things.

"I actually thought I'd see you here a week ago, honestly. Or in February." She sighs. "I still come here, four days every year. So much for moving on, huh?"

"Moving on isn't the same as forgetting. It's pointless to pity yourself for it," he tells her coolly. "You of all people should know that already."

Sumire hums softly in agreement. After a few moments of silence, she says, "So, you two are having a fight, then?"

"Not exactly." It's not really an argument if he didn't even give Ren a chance to say anything. "How was the New Year's party?"

"Huh? Oh...actually, I don't think I got an invitation. I usually can't come as it is, and I told everyone I'd be too busy with training this winter anyway, so." Her laugh is tinny and too bright. _She never was very good at hiding her feelings,_ he thinks. Some things always stay the same.

Goro finally looks at Sumire. She's staring down at her shoes, her hair hanging limp around her face. "Tell me," he says, because he knows she won't otherwise.

She doesn't say anything for a few minutes. People pass by without looking at either of them, chatting to each other in snippets of nothing and everything. Her fingers twist anxiously around each other. "I'm retiring," she says at last, her voice so very small. "I _have_ to retire. My ankle ligaments just aren't the same, and...the doctors say they can't take much more. I kept getting sprains at the training camp, so...I pulled out."

"I see. That's...too bad," he offers. There's not much more he could say. He's not the one who's good at this sort of thing. "Have you told Ren about this?"

Sumire shakes her head, her eyes overbright. "Honestly? I don't know how to tell him. Maybe it's silly, but...he's supported me all this time, and I don't want to disappoint him. I couldn't bear that." Her shoulders slump.

"He's not going to be disappointed," Goro says, his voice cold but not harsh. He's not the comforting kind, and they both know it, but he can do this much. "You know damn well that all he'll want is to help you however he can, so tell him and get it over with already. You managed it well enough with me, just do that again."

That gets her to laugh, though it's a small, shaky thing. "Ah, there's that everyday Akechi-san I know, always so ruthlessly sensible. I, I guess you're right." She sniffles quietly. "I mean, I don't. I don't have anything to be upset about, really. I made it to the top! I did everything Kasumi and I set out to do. And I knew going in that...well, it's a sport with a pretty early expiration date, you know?"

He knows. By all accounts, gymnastics is hell on the body, and it wears athletes out young almost every time. "But it's one thing to know that when you're fifteen, and another to realize how young you still are at twenty-two," he replies, and she nods. "And having the decision taken out of your hands is even worse."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. Neither of them can stand feeling helpless, after all. She finally meets his eyes, giving him a wobbly smile. "You remembered, Senpai. It's nice of you to keep track."

"You don't have to keep calling me that. It was for one month that never happened, it took place years ago, and it's not like I was ever a Shujin student. We've both long since graduated high school," Goro points out, rather than answer _that_ sentiment. It's not a trial for him to remember Sumire's birthday, or how long it's been since they met. It's not a significant gesture to keep track of such small things.

"I know, but I like to. It's nostalgic," she tells him. Then she leans in slightly, a hard glint in her bright eyes. "So, you haven't been back for a few weeks, huh?"

It's a little too easy to forget how sharp Sumire is, no matter the situation. He'd been hoping she wouldn't notice that implication of his remark about New Year's. "You caught me," he says flatly. "I've been staying in a hotel. I unblock him long enough to let him know I'm alive every few days."

(He hadn't thought to, the first time he'd left. Neither of them had understood yet that Goro would sometimes need to tug at the same leash he'd so trustingly given to Ren. And then he'd finally come back, and seeing the way Ren had come _unraveled—_ )

Enough of that. No point thinking about it. "He really didn't tell you?"

"Nope. Amamiya-senpai told me once that he knows you'll always come back when you're ready," she says.

Goro huffs, feeling exposed. Sometimes he still wishes no one could ever know him that well. "Nice of him to go telling everyone he knows about the state of our relationship."

"Don't be such a grouch. We were both a few drinks in and everyone else had gone home already," she laughs. Her smile is both fond and melancholic. "And honestly, I think he only confides in me sometimes because I know you almost as well as he does."

It stays unspoken between them that Sumire is the only friend Ren has who cares to know much of anything about Goro at all.

_They only tolerate me for your sake._

Goro feels a stab of guilt. He clears his throat. "Still, I'm surprised they didn't invite you along. I'd have thought they'd never miss a chance to see you."

It's an odd twist of fate that of the two of them, Goro is the one who's present more often when the Phantom Thieves hold another of their endless string of reunions. Then again, he's sure that won't be the case much longer now that Sumire is leaving the career that's consumed her life all these years. It's probably better that way.

Sumire shrugs. "I don't know, Akechi-san. You and I aren't really like the rest of them. We aren't Phantom Thieves, we just helped them out for a little while. I think we're always going to stand a little ways apart from the others because of that, no matter how much they welcome us in. It's a little lonely, isn't it?"

_We both know I don't belong there._

"I'm sure they're only too happy to welcome _you_ , Sumire-san," he says dryly. "There's nothing to fear on that score. I'm the troublesome one, not you." 

It would be easier for her if she didn't insist on drawing him in among the rest of the group, he's sure. He's seen how everyone smiles at her, how hard they work to carve out a space where she'll fit. Sometimes he wishes he could hate Sumire for it. Even all these years later, the weight of his past still relentlessly suffocates him.

But she always smiles at him like this whenever envy starts to consume him, as if he's still worth anyone's time after everything he's done, and he's too desperate to turn her away. "You're always so hard on yourself, Senpai. Always so prepared for the worst to happen."

Some things always stay the same. Pity still feels like a hot knife sliding under his ribs, twisting into his guts. "And then I never have to be disappointed," Goro replies, more bitterly than he'd intended.

_It's better for everyone if I don't even bother._

She tilts her head. "Doesn't it really mean you're disappointed twice as much if your fears really come true? And if they don't, then you've made yourself miserable for no reason?"

"Stop talking like you're my goddamn _therapist_ ," he says, his voice acid. It's a low blow, but she doesn't flinch. "I already have it better than I could hope for. I don't expect or deserve more, and I'm fine the way things are. Leave it alone, Sumire."

"Senpai," Sumire says, very gently, and reaches out to rest her small hand on his arm. "I don't think I'm the person you're arguing with right now."

_Even I get tired of fighting for my right to exist at all, Ren._

Goro swallows back the harsh words burning his throat. She's not wrong. He clenches his fists, looks away, finally exhales the tension in one long breath. "My apologies. I'm sure you can understand how...unsettled I am, at this time of year."

She pats his shoulder with gentle affection. Once he'd have swatted her hand away and stormed off; these days, he's learned how to let her be kind to him. "You don't need to apologize to me, Goro. I know."

He'd snap at her if she were anyone else. But Sumire Yoshizawa _does_ know, and she keeps his secrets close just as he keeps hers, year after year. The winter is always a time just for them, where they draw in on themselves and share the impossible load of that muted grief. It's easier to be broken with someone whose jagged edges match up to yours.

Goro sighs, shaking his head. "I suppose we shouldn't keep standing out here freezing to death. Care to go for brunch with me? I think I can afford to subsidize your appetite for one meal."

She elbows him in the ribs gently. "Just for that, I'm going to order seconds."

"Truly, I'm horrified by the prospect." He rolls his eyes theatrically, but he's smiling for the first time in quite a while. Only a little, but it's nice to remember that he can.

Sumire's phone goes off, and she lights up when she checks the caller ID. "Oh, it's Dad! I'll be back in a few minutes, Akechi-san?" When he nods, she jogs off to a nearby bench, gesturing animatedly as she talks into the receiver. She laughs as if nothing could ever bring her spirits low.

Goro used to wonder why Sumire would choose to seek him out in her darkest times, when the other Phantom Thieves were surely better confidants. She'll rely on Ren in a pinch, but for some reason, she's always come to him first. Perhaps it's because they're both not quite a part of the group, like she said before. Or perhaps it's that both of them were staring over the precipice into oblivion during that fateful month, and they've never truly fit into their lives ever since. He's never asked her the reason, so he'll never be sure.

It doesn't really matter anymore. He's just selfishly glad that someone would choose him. That _two_ people have is more good fortune than he ever hoped for, and even if he doesn't deserve it, Goro isn't one to ever let go of the little he has.

He pulls out his own phone. Ren picks up on the first ring, but says nothing, waiting for him to speak first. He always does. 

"I'll be home later," Goro says. "It's likely Sumire will be staying for dinner." Once, he'd have asked permission. He's learned by now that he doesn't have to.

"Plenty of extra portions, then," Ren replies. He sounds pleased by the thought. "How have you been?"

"I've been." Goro leaves it at that. "How was the party? Who was the prize fool this time?" Someone always finds a new way to make an ass of themselves at these team reunions. It's usually Ryuji, often Ren, sometimes Yusuke or Futaba, but nearly everyone in Ren's inner circle has had at least one turn in the mortifying spotlight.

For some reason, that's the thought that chokes him up, makes him realize how much he's missed Ren, and even missed all of the busybodies that come packaged with him. He clears his throat awkwardly, feeling wretched and alone. The worst part of leaving is always the moment he realizes he wants to go back.

"Didn't have it yet," Ren tells him, as if it should be obvious. "The Phantom Thieves decided to hold off till we could get everyone back together. Unanimous vote, like we always do."

"Ah," Goro says, very soft, trying not to sound like he's shattering. _Unanimous._ It seems impossible, so he changes the subject. "Why do you always wait for me?"

 _You shouldn't. One day you won't anymore. I'm not worth it. Please don't ever stop._ He'll never say it, but that's never stopped Ren from filling in the empty spaces.

"Because you'll come back," Ren says, just as quietly. "And you're worth waiting for, so I don't mind."

"Hmm. That's exactly what she said," Goro says in a more ominous tone. "We've discussed this before, Ren. Are you somehow incapable of excluding me from your list of acceptable gossip fodder?"

"Oops." Ren sounds entirely unconcerned about the coming reckoning. (They both know he never really means it.) "Welcome home, Goro."

"Save it for when I'm there, you besotted idiot." Goro hangs up, feeling the knots in his chest slowly coming untied. It's always a relief to find he can breathe again.

Sumire has already finished her phone call. When she sees him put his phone away again, she immediately gets up to rejoin him. "There, that wasn't so hard," she mock-scolds. "Well, shall we?"

Goro extends his arm to his friend, all polite formality. "Of course."

She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow, smiling bright. Arm in arm, they head off into the morning together as it slowly warms with the sunlight, neither of them sparing another glance back at the stadium that stands guard over the weight of their memories.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter @rhodophytae


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